


But We Can Try

by misswhitecrayon



Category: Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Malec, aahh this is my first fic, but I know next to nothing abt fountain pens oop, do i know what i'm doing? not at all, in which Magnus is a huge fountain pen nerd, v fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misswhitecrayon/pseuds/misswhitecrayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec comes home one day to find Magnus nowhere to be found... And then a shout sends him running through the apartment. What will he find?</p>
<p>I'm rlly bad @ summaries sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	But We Can Try

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a Mark Twain quote  
> "None of us can have as many virtues as the fountain pen, or half its cussedness; but we can try"  
> Not beta-d, let me know if I made a mistake!

Alexander Lightwood burst into his boyfriend’s apartment, about to collapse in on himself or unravel at the seams or just otherwise come apart. He dropped his bag (because what self-respecting shadowhunter doesn’t carry a bag with necessities like weapons and snacks?) on the floor and closed the door behind him, because he was raised in a morally upstanding and strict household, not a barn.  
“Magnus?” He called, wondering what the warlock could be doing that he didn’t come running as soon as he heard the door close. “Where are you, buttercup?” He had decided to experiment with different terms of endearment, since Magnus always seemed to use a different one when addressing him. He wrinkled his nose; that one wouldn’t do.  
“Come here, biscuit!!” Alec couldn’t determine whether his voice was excited or panicked, so he broke into a run through the apartment, tripping over: his bag, every piece of furniture Magnus owned, and his own feet.  
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”  
The man, his man, that creature of complete beauty, was standing in the middle of his study holding…  
A pen. It looked completely ordinary, nothing to shout over.  
“It’s not just a pen,” Magnus pouted, and Alec realized he’d been thinking aloud again. “It’s the most beautiful fountain pen I’ve ever seen, and I rescued it from some poor soul who wouldn’t be able to tell a ballpoint pen from a rollerball.”  
Alec blinked; he didn’t know the difference between a ballpoint pen and a rollerball.  
“Don’t worry about it, love.” Magnus patted his head, having to get up on his tiptoes to do so. “This pen needs so much tlc though, I think I might have to cancel the rest of my clients for the day…”  
“Tlc?” Alec was again confused, then raised his voice in protest. “You shouldn’t send people away that need your help just for a pen!”  
“It’s not just a pen, Alexander!”  
The shadowhunter was suddenly shocked at the intensity of Magnus’ voice.  
Magnus also seemed taken aback, and put visible effort into restraining himself. “It’s just… Tessa loves this kind of pen. She was- and still is one of my closest friends,” he finished quickly. “She’s also a warlock, with abilities that took everyone quite a while to figure out…” He smiled fondly. “Her birthday is coming up, and I really wanted to do something special for once. Sometimes we go out for drinks or spend hours talking on the phone, but that’s nothing special.” His eyes darkened a little. “We do it whenever we need someone to lean on.”  
Alec could imagine that Magnus needed someone to lean on after Camille broke his heart, and took comfort in hoping that this Tessa had been there.  
“Well, that’s that!” He exclaimed cheerfully. “Just wanted you to see this little bit of history.”  
“You’re the only bit of history that I need.” Alec looked away, a little unsure if that was okay for him to say. “I-I wasn’t trying to say you’re o-old or any-anything…”  
Magnus grinned. “I know what you were trying to say, biscuit.” He took Alec’s shirt in his hand and pulled him down gently to press a light kiss to his nose. Then he turned away, scanning the shelves of his study and chuckling a bit to himself.  
“What’s so funny?”  
“I just- don’t know where I’ll put this when I’m done restoring it.” He chuckled again, louder. “Look!” It seemed every flat surface was piled precariously with stuff- from books of poetry, to spellbooks, to pens of every style and color that, Alec had to admit, were very nice to look at. They were pieces of art in their own right, he supposed, much like Magnus himself.  
“It seems like it’s really important to you; I can keep it in my room?” Alec offered with a shy smile; he’d half-moved in with Magnus and though he had a lot of stuff in his room there, there was still plenty of room for something as small as a pen.  
“Be sure you don’t lose it or break it though!” Despite the quip at his boyfriend’s carelessness (despite being one of those graceful angel creatures, Magnus had discovered that he had quite the aptitude for tripping over his own feet, not paying attention to where he waved his arms when gesturing wildly, and bumping into things when he backed away from awkward situations), Magnus was quite grateful for the offer to keep something so precious to him safe.  
Alec smiled at Magnus. “Of course.” He looked around the room slowly, then blurted, “What's your favorite?”  
“What?”  
“U-uh, pen. What's your fav-favorite pen?” Alec stuttered. “S-sorry, I was just wondering…”  
“Not a problem, Alexander.” He paused for a long moment deep in thought, then glided (Jesus Christ, how was he so graceful?) to a far corner of the room, where books and other objects were piled the most precariously. His hand hovered over one, though Alec was too far away to see what it looked like. Finally he chose two and came back. One was rather plain, with a black body and silver- what was it called? Oh, right- nib. “Ragnor Fell gave me this, decades ago. It always infuriated me, what with his- and my own- flair for the extravagant, he walked into a shop and chose the plainest object he could find.” He smiled nostalgically. “But I’ve always loved it dearly- I love how smoothly it writes, and the nib isn’t too wide, as some are wont to be.”  
Alec smiled at the warlock; he loved seeing Magnus speak about something he was passionate about. His golden cat eyes lit up, and he smiled a little brighter.  
He carefully placed the aforementioned pen on the corner of the table they stood by and gazed at the second one he was holding. It was truly beautiful; it was also black, but with a gold inlay of what Alec would have called excessive intricacy before he met Magnus. Now, however, he saw and truly appreciated every small, sweeping curve.   
“After apparently scouring London for days, Tessa showed up at my door with this, grinning but bashful, like a child presenting a drawing they’re proud of.” He rubbed his thumb over the barrel of the pen. “It was a thank-you for…” His eyebrows drew close as he tried to remember. “Oh, right. Her husband had just passed and I spent days comforting her and taking care of her.” Again, a nostalgic smile. “William was so good for her, it was such a shame.”  
Alec rested his hand on Magnus’ arm. “It sounds like you really care for Tessa.” Magnus blinked and gazed at him and smiled, nodding. Then he busied himself placing the pens back in their proper places and fixing stacks of books that fell as he moved among them. He muttered something that sounded like “I feel like a damn hoarder” and frowned.  
“I really must do something about this mess,” he said audibly.  
Alec smiled at him and rubbed his back, something his sister always did for him when he was upset, and hoped it succeeded in making Magnus feel better as well.  
Magnus straightened up with a sigh and looked around, then… wrapped his arms tightly around Alec, who was not expecting this and gasped, but then returned the hug.  
“You know…” Alec grinned. “I might help you clean up in here, if you reward me with stories about all of your pens.”  
“Well, Alexander, not all of them have stories.” The warlock reached up to pat Alec’s head. “Some of them I just saw and decided they were too pretty for me not to have them.  
Alec plucked one off a shelf. “How about this one?”  
“Well, that was actually a gift from… William, after Tessa bullied him into thanking me for saving his life one time.”  
“You can’t just leave it at that! Tell me the whole story!”  
“Well, if I recall, William was showing off for Tessa and got in a bigger pickle than he planned on. Literally, the demon looked a bit like a pickle and was rather larger than expected. So they rushed him to me, and I stayed up all night…”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be much appreciated <3 I've been in this fandom a while but never really tried my hand at fic-writing... I haven't really written any prose in a while actually


End file.
